You wander into my thought,my happiness, the way the deerwander through the yard these days, very relaxed, with no thought of being hunted,browsing the bushes near the drivewaylike people at the refreshment table of an art opening… That’s how you come over me—not with a burst of wings,but with that slow, presumptuous air of entitlement,as…
What am I doing, trudging around Natick, Massachusetts,so archetypal in its split-level, clapboard ordinariness,one house after another like a crowd gathered haphazardlyat an accident site? And why explore the deafeningblandness of the little streets with fenced-in yards,where day after day—iPod loaded with arias—Ti prego, rubami il cuore!—I wheel the baby, who will not quietunless she’s…
You have been away too long.For pleasure. On business.You are coming home and the almanacpredicts heat waves, hurricanes,other unlikelihoods. The old barin our town is serving seven cocktailsfor the price of six. The deck is open.Pleasure. You are coming homewith your pregnant girlfriendwhom no one has met. The babywill be named Bullet or Hunter or…
Growing up, there were always two laws.My mother, the greater, the greatestWho made enemies if necessary outOf the trashman or the paperboy.Queen without her court and details,Commands so precise, you could notFollow if you were not one of her students;If you did not know her nobility you mightThink she was crazy in her house dressStanding…
When the sun broke up the thunderheads, and dissonance was consigned to its proper place, the world was at once foreign and known to me, that was shame leaving the body. I had lived my life from small relief to small relief, like a boy pulling a thorn from his foot. Wet and glistening, twisting…
In late summer I swim across the lake to the stand of reedswhich grows calmly in the foot-deep water on the other side. It is like going to a florist’s shopyou have to take your clothes off to get to, where nothing is for sale and nothing on displaybut some tall, vertical green spears, and…
The room cannot feel its arteries stuffed with animal fatfrom the insulation. Cannot hope to alter its mouth andeating is not a thing that it can do well. The room hasn’ttaken a bath since 1987, but there was a slight wash in1992 bestowing the room its perforated body. The roomcannot control the content of its…
The kind Italian driver of the bus to Romeinvited her to his house—she was obviouslyhungry—and gave her sandwichesand raped her. All those years ago—she smileswhile telling it—contemptuous,somehowof her younger self, who drags behind her like a can.Grammar is greatbut who will write the sentence that includesthe story of the damage to her soul and how…
We’re in the middle of it, in the middleof the backyard barbecuing steakand chicken. Telling stories with our wives and girlfriends away,red and blue psychedelics, Coors Lightand breasts falling into our mouths again like basalt cliffs into the sea.Jeremy says, I did CPR on a gorilla once.A girl gorilla, a big one. I kept thinking,…
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